


you can write rhymes but you can't write mine!

by schrodingers_zombie



Series: alexander hamilton is a tiny bothersome rebel [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Humor, Modern Era, Preschool AU, baby!ham, idfk what im supposed to call this goddamn thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schrodingers_zombie/pseuds/schrodingers_zombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alexander hamilton is a tiny child and EVEN THEN he is a rebellious loudmouthed bother. his teacher doesn't want to deal with this. why does this baby know what oppression is, and why is he complaining about it in preschool? can't he shut up for one freaking second? (DON'T SAY FREAKING, IT'S A BAD WORD!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can write rhymes but you can't write mine!

**Author's Note:**

> i like writing trash. this is dumb. i hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. tell me if you want more baby!ham, or more kid!ham (i was thinking of a kind of sequel to this with middleschool!ham or highschool!ham but i'm open to other ideas)  
> please tell me what you think of this.

“Ok, sit down circle time! Come on, kids. Everyone sit down!”

The young kids, chattering slightly among themselves, giggling and fidgeting, arranged themselves in a misshapen circle.

“Come over here, John, Maria. Alex, Alex, sit down, honey. Quiet down. One two three, eyes on me, everyone.” The teacher said, patting the colorful rug on the floor beside him.

The children eventually settled down. The murmur of their voices quoted to a hush as they looked expectantly at their teacher.

“Does anyone know what today is?” He asked. A bright-eyed girl with bushy black hair raised her hand. “Yes, Abby?”

“Today is… Umm… It's Constipation Day!” The girl, Abby, said proudly.

The teacher laughed. “I think you mean Constitution Day, yes. Do you know what it's about?”

Abby wiggled excitedly. “It's the day that the… the constantution was signed by our Founding Fathers!! My mommy told me all about it. It made our country great!”

“Right,” the teacher said. “The Constitution is a very important paper that says a lot of things to make sure that the USA is the best country. It's the paper that makes us all free and able to be happy!”

“Not all the people,” a young boy said from the back of the room. The boy, no older than five, was crossing his arms and frowning in a way that made him seem old for his age.

“Alex, we’re in listening time right now, remember?” The teacher responded sternly. “Anyway, the Constitution is very good and it does help a lot of people be happy. It was written by a group of very smart and very nice people called the Founding Fathers who started this country!”

“The Founding Fathers had slaves,” the boy interrupted again, his eyebrows scrunching down in an adorably angry glare.

“Alexander,” the teacher repeated. He took a deep breath. “Why don’t we save questions and… discussion for at home? Or maybe later. Maybe after we learn about the founding fathers you can tell us what you think.”

The boy, Alex, looked frustrated but kept his mouth shut.

The teacher smiled tightly. “Ok. Thank you, Alex. Alright, who knows what this is?” He held up an American flag, waving it slightly to show all the kids.

“Our flag!” A chorus of voices responded, minus Alex- but the teacher chose to ignore that. At least he wasn’t disrupting the class.

“Very good. Now, to show respect for our flag and to honor the writers of the Constitution, we say the pledge of allegiance. I’m sure you all already know the words from last year, but if you don’t, tell me now so I can help you with them!”

Nobody raised their hands. A few kids fidgeted excitedly. One stood up, impatient for showing off her knowledge of the Pledge.

The teacher laughed and stood up. “Everyone, rise for the pledge. Stand up, everyone.” He turned towards the larger flag hung in the corner of the classroom and put one hand on his heart. “Say it with me: I pledge allegiance to the flag…”

“I pledge allegiance to the flag,” the children repeated dutifully… minus one.

The teacher turned back towards the class. Unsurprisingly, really, Alex was still seated on the floor.

“Alex, honey, why don’t you stand up with everyone? Do you not know the words? Is it because you just moved from, uh, from wherever you came from again?”

Alex shook his head. “Uh-uh. I just don’t want to.”

The teacher laughed nervously. “Oh, Alex, sweetie. It’s just the respectful thing to do. Come on. Stand up. Let’s try again. I pledge allegiance-”

Alex didn’t move.

The teacher ran his hands through his hair exasperatedly, sighing deeply. He didn’t like to show his frustration to his students, but Alex was really being intractable. “Alexander, please. What’s wrong? The pledge is our way of honoring our flag and our country. Why aren’t you standing up for this?” Immediately as he asked that, the teacher knew it was a mistake. He sighed again and looked up momentarily.

Alex shifted slightly, shoving out his chest and drawing himself up taller. It was really a funny sight, the four-year-old stretching himself up to his maximum height and glaring at the teacher with all the intensity he could muster.

Or at least it would be funny if it wasn’t so… frustrating, the teacher couldn’t help but think to himself.

“The flag symbolizes years of oppression and, and, disc-im-in-ation,” Alex spat, the words sounding amusingly unnatural in his tiny voice. “I respect our country as much as anyone does but I don’t wanna blindly stand and show ‘respect’ to a piece of cloth without, uh, ag-knowledging the country’s flaws.”

“Alexander, sit down and-” The teacher tried.

“No!” Alex pounded a fist on the floor. “And the pledge itself has a lotta parts that don’t fit everyone in the country! First of all, we should be pledging to the country if we do to anything. Not the piece of cloth with colorful stripes! And then, then, ‘under God’? That’s… that’s STUPID!”

The rest of the kids gasped.

“That’s a bad word…” one whispered.

Alex continued, his tiny hands gesturing wildly to emphasize his points. “Not everyone in this country believes in God! Some are atheitses!”

The teacher did not correct Alex’s pronunciation.

“This country isn’t a religion country! There’s a separation of church and state,” Alex said. He was clearly proud of his knowledge of such technical and official terms. “And it just acts like we should ignore all the bad things the USA did. Respect should be earned, not blindly given!”

The teacher sighed yet again. How many times had he sighed already in the past few minutes? If the rest of the year would be like this… oh god, he hoped not. “That’s a very… interesting opinion. Who told you that?”

Alex jutted out his chin. “I learned it all myself. I can think things too. I was reading a lot about those things.”

Of course he could already read.

“Fine,” the teacher said resignedly. “If you really believe that… if you really don’t think that you should stand and respect our flag, you can sit down. And… and anyone else, I guess you can do the same.”

He sighed once more, internally this time, when a bunch of the children started sitting down, nervously at first but then more confidently. Only about half were still standing at the end. Some glared at the sitting kids, and the teacher sent a warning look at those, but most seemed okay with the small revolution that had just occurred in the classroom.

Alex nodded once firmly and crossed his arms again. “And if you try to make me say something or stand up for something I don’t believe in, you’re… you’re a BIG BUTTFACE MEANIE.”

The entire classroom was silent with shock at the terrible insult Alex had just thrown at their teacher.

This was going to be a long year, the teacher thought.

He looked at Alex, who was grinning triumphantly and explaining to some of the other kids more about his views and opinions. The kids, both the standing and the sitting ones, were gathered around the small boy, listening intently, sometimes butting in with their own ideas. It would have been cute if it wasn't so bothersome.

Yes, he thought. This was going to be an extremely long year.


End file.
